


Innocent Autumns

by silvercolour



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Carving pumpkins, Cute, Dowling Era fic, Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic, Halloween, bc Aziraphaleis a dummy and needs to trust Crowley more, brief misunderstandings regarding said pumpkin carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvercolour/pseuds/silvercolour
Summary: Brother Francis suspects Nanny is Up to No Good, and goes to investigate.Or: Halloween at the Dowling’s!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Trick-Or-Treat!





	Innocent Autumns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunlitroses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitroses/gifts).



> Written for sunlitroses for the Trick-or-Treat Halloween gift exchange; I hope you enjoy this offering!
> 
> In the mood for other Halloween things? Can I interest you in some cute [Good Omens Vampire AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911704/chapters/60283444) perhaps?

One mid-autumn day, Brother Francis noticed something strange.

It was a wonderfully sunny day, possibly the last nice day before the weather would be turning properly cold. The trees around the American Embassy’s estate were crowned in red-orange-gold and slowly covering the ground in their glorious foliage. Just that morning, Francis had gently directed a few deer away from the balding flower beds, and back to the safety of the neighbouring forest.

None of these things were particularly strange. They had happened the last few years as well. The Dowling child was now walking, and talking, and had started school, and the longer Francis knew him, the harder it became to think of the kid as “the Antichrist”. Perhaps that was part of his power, seeming innocent until he was ready to come into his powers, like a butterfly waiting in its cocoon, he pondered as he filled yet another wheelbarrow with leaves.

No, today’s strangeness was caused by Nanny Ashtoreth. She had been busy all day, stalking between the house, a perfectly innocuous spot on the lawn, and a few short detours via the kitchens. Normally she abhorred the lawn, claimed it ruined her shoes completely. For some reason, today she seemed determined to ruin the lawn in return.

Warlock was currently at school, so Nanny had all the time she needed for her… plans. Brother Francis had not yet had time to investigate what those plans might be, as the gorgeous autumn leaves were ruining the edges of the lawn and the flower beds. According to Mrs. Dowling, that is. As far as Brother Francis was concerned it would be better to leave the leaves where they were, and possibly also to turn the too-neat stretches of grass around the house into forest while they were at it. He much preferred to see nature do its own thing. But he had volunteered himself for this job of gardener, so he had to listen to the Dowling’s wishes about the manmade landscape they called “a garden”.

By the time the garden was as manicured as it could reasonably be in autumn, it was late afternoon, and Brother Francis had still not had any time to find out what Nanny had been up to that day. He did notice that two of the servants had helped Nanny by carrying outside what seemed to be half a dining room’s worth of furniture, and an ungodly amount of plastic, and who knew what else. He was certain there would be a trail worn into the too-neat lawn to Nanny’s chosen spot for her Plans. Not that he  _ liked _ the lawn, but as its gardener he had to care. That was just the principle of the matter.

Walking around the back of the house, and Nanny’s chosen staging ground, he found the place abandoned. Carefully approaching the place to take a closer look, Brother Francis felt his corporation’s heartbeat stutter. There were several chairs arranged around what appeared to be one of the nice tables from the family dining room. One of the chairs had a booster seat in it, clearly intended for Warlock. The table itself was covered in a giant plastic sheet, to protect it from… well. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Because the reason he had not been able to keep his heartbeat under control was a collection of  _ very _ sharp kitchen knives laid out in the middle of the table.

They were the kind of knives one needed for chopping, and filleting, and sawing and– well. They all looked terribly mean, if you asked Brother Francis. And worst of all, they were arranged with their handles towards the booster seat. Warlock’s seat. They looked to be only just out of range of a small child’s reaching hands. Brother Francis couldn’t think of any reason why Nanny might want any of these near Warlock. That is, he couldn’t think of a  _ good _ reason. He could think of one or two  _ bad _ reasons, however.

He shuddered to think what kind of devilish things Nanny might be about to teach the Antichrist. Also on the table, but in reach even from Warlock’s seat, where a huge spoon for scooping… stuff… as well as a permanent marker. Next to the table was a bucket ready to throw away whatever disgusting things might be left over from Nanny’s experiment.

Brother Francis did not like any of it. He did not like this one single bit, and he would find Nanny, and stop her, and protect the Antichrist, as contradictory and action as that might be. He whirled around, only to find Nanny Ashtoreth stalking towards him, carrying the Dowling child on her hip. Just behind her was one of the servants (Pete, Francis thought his name was), carrying a sack of something lumpy that appeared quite heavy and solid.

Caught in the act of spying, Francis stuttered: “N-nanny, good afternoon! Can I ask, dear, what–“ was as far as he got before she breezed past him, settling Warlock in his chair.

“Afternoon, Brother Francis, I’m so glad you’re joining us,” she said, a smile clearly audible in her voice, even though her back was turned to him. Standing back up, she half-turned towards him, and waved for possibly-Pete to put the  _ thing _ was carrying on the table. The sack was dumped on the table, each of the lumps making a faint  _ thump _ as it hit.

“Do you have a preference for the kind of knives you’d like to use for this, Francis?” autumn sunlight glinted off Nanny’s glasses as she asked the question, and for a moment Francis thought her eyes might be red as flame.

“Kn-knives, Nanny? I’m afraid I don’t–“

“Nonsense, dear,” Nanny Ashtoreth interrupted him, waving away his concerns. “I know you do. You’re around sharp things all day! You should show Warlock those giant hedge clippers sometime, I’m sure he’ll like those.” Beside her, Warlock nodded furiously, unnatural excitement shining in his eyes. He seemed more excitable than usual, today, and it made Brother Francis very concerned for what he might be missing here. Because he was definitely missing  _ something _ , and the something was important, and involved a  _ lot _ of knives.

Nanny was still talking, and unconcerned with Francis’ unease: “Personally I prefer the fillet knife, for its versatility.” She picked up a thin, wickedly curved knife, and held it up so that both Brother Francis and Warlock could see what she meant. “It has a very fine point, and so can be used for detail work, but also has a broad surface for long, clean cuts,” Nanny grinned at him and flipped the blade around in her hand, offering the handle to him. “Would you like to try this one, dear?”

“N–no thank you Nanny, I really just came to see what– that is, why…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the collected knives on the table, before looking up at Nanny, silently pleading for her to laugh, and say it was all a joke, and that they could now go inside and play with Lego’s. 

Nanny did laugh, but her laugh did not calm his nerves one bit.

“Why, I thought that would be obvious, Francis, dear,” She said, and behind her both Warlock and probably-Pete nodded in agreement. Turning back to the table, Nany said: “Warlock, would you like to tell Brother Francis what we’re doing?”

Warlock sat up straight, and said, with a grin a mile wide on his tiny face: “We’re making a sac’ifice to the pum’kin gods!”

Francis blinked in confusion, while Nanny laughed, and Warlock giggled. It was Pete who came to his rescue, and explained: “It’s Halloween, Brother Francis. Nanny wanted to carve Jack-o-lanterns with Warlock, instead of buying them like the family has been doing the last couple of years. We’ll clean everything up afterwards, of course, don’t you worry about your lawn.” With a nod to Nanny, Pete walked back to the house.

“Halloween?” Francis repeated weakly.

“Of course, Brother, what else did you think we might be doing?“ Nanny asked, her grin positively evil.

“Oh, I– well. I didn’t really know what this might be, and uhm. I didn’t want to assume anything…”

Warlock piped up: “We’re saving the seeds for you, Brother Francis! So we can grow our own pum’kins next year! And then on Halloween, we can carve pum’kins from our own garden!”

Francis blinked in surprise. “What a wonderful idea, Warlock, We’ll grow lots of pumpkins for you, don’t you worry.” Quite where they were going to do so he wasn’t sure, as Mrs. Dowling had denied Brother Francis’ requests to plant a herb- or vegetable garden every spring so far.

“Now then, let’s make a battle plan, shall we?” Nanny announced. “How about the two of you start hollowing out these pumpkins, and then Warlock can design them, and I’ll do the carving.”

Warlock nodded happily, and Francis agreed with him. That sounded like a safe enough plan for a small child.

  
  


That evening several pumpkins adorned the steps up to the entrance of the Dowling residence. Most of them were carved with cartoonish faces that looked more funny than scary. Two of them were different, however. Warlock had had so much fun “designing” that he had insisted Nanny and Francis both make a design as well. And so one pumpkin was carved in delicate lines that formed a snake wrapping completely around the pumpkin, it’s head reared up to strike, and it’s fire-bright eyes staring at any visitor brave enough to approach. Another pumpkin sitting beside it showed a forest, tall trees reaching up their branches towards the lid of the pumpkin, and pumpkin-orange autumn leaves speckled both the branches and the ground on which the trees stood.

**Author's Note:**

> And remember kids! Don’t leave your small child near knives, even if you have demonic powers you can use for their protection!
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think, I love hearing from you!


End file.
